Illusion
by Minty Mentos
Summary: Jesse' mind plays a cruel trick. An illusion.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I am not Katherine Paterson.**

**Summary: It has been four years since Leslie died. Jesse' mind plays a cruel trick. An illusion.**

'_The cruelest thing is time. It withers and rewinds. And soon you forget. You forget time. You forget that it replaced bittersweet memories with darkness. Time forces you to forget, and yet.. Jesse never would forget, and time knew that very fact. Time knew it all and decided not to interfere. His mind though, his mental state, did not back down.'_

"Jesse. The day is wasting away. Go run." An apple wood fire crackled and sparked, Jesse had made a game out of the fire. He timed how long he could intently stare at the orange flames. Jesse had looked upon the fire for so long that when his eyes trailed to his questioning mother, an outline of orange and red retraced all objects. "No." The answer was amongst the ranks of a question and an answer. The two years had done Jesse good. He gained a smooth and silky tone, still deepening, and enough muscles to be satisfied about. Running had been something Leslie loved, everything she loved he now had learned to hate. His parents, in an attempt to brighten his dark mood, bought him the shoes he had begged for years ago. The longing for them had wavered and burnt out, Jesse returned his deadened gaze to the fire. "Jesse." His mother gave him the tired and yet angry glance that made any of her children regret their behavior. It may have worked, if Jesse was paying his mother any mind. "Jesse.. You have to try."

"Try what?" He snapped, avoiding his mothers eyes. The question seemed to silence her until minutes later, "Jesse. I'm not asking you, leave this house, I do not care where you go. I do not care what you do. Just get out of here." Jess smiled at the irony of it all as he started to walk out of the door, he paused for one moment,

"Oh? Why don't I just go and kill myself?" And before his mother could do as much as react he slammed the door. Jesse slid his slender hands into his jean pockets after flipping the hood of his black hoodie up, over his head. He kicked a rock that ended up hitting a birds nest, he felt no remorse. He tripped and fell later on, he felt no pain.

Pain was nothing compared to what he felt. Jess should not have felt this way. He was finally assured of his fathers love of him. It had been four whole years since Leslie had died. Her family had 'moved on', his family had 'moved on', the entire community had 'moved on'. Why couldn't Jesse? She had been his only true friend, she had shown him the ability to imagine and dream. Perhaps he had even loved the girl, and yet all of that did not matter any longer. Leslie was dead. She lived no longer. Jesse pushed all that attempted to befriend him away, he convinced himself that it was better that way. No one understood him these days, his little sister had long ago stopped trying, every once and awhile she would ask if he would take her to Terabithia. The answer remained the same. No. Without trying Jesse had become the popular and yet depressed guy everyone talked of. He had become the mysterious guy that all the new students of the ninth grade, mostly the girls, were fascinated with. No one dared retell the story. Some traveled to the forest to see nothing, maybe believing Terabithia to be real.

Jesse walked down the dirt path leading to the gap where Leslie had died. No tears showed, he had cried too many times to count for two years. He cursed under his breath intently staring at the torn rope that had sealed Leslie's fate. It hurt him. He sighed as he started to walk back to his home when he sighted a head full of blonde hair. As always when he spotted a girl with blonde hair his heart raced, and yet his mind knew that it could never be Leslie. His heart would thump.

_Thump. Thump._

The girl turned slightly, her eyes meeting his.

_Thump. Thump._

Jesse shook his head.

_Thump. Thump._

It couldn't be her, and yet.. She had the same smile, the same brown eyes. The only difference was the length of her blonde hair.

_Thump. Thump._

It _was_ Leslie. It had to be. He ran to the girl, all of the pain gone from his face. If just for that _one _moment.

_Thump. Thump. _

**Leave comments.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I am not Katherine Paterson.**

**Author's Note: Greetings to my fellow humans! I apologize for the long wait, that's just me and my procrastination problem. Thank you for all of the great comments. **

**Enjoy!**

"You're a pretty good runner."

Jesse sighed, he didn't want this. He didn't need it.

Conversation was pointless. Jesse shrugged without looking up. His pain filled eyes were fixed on his book.

"Shakespeare, hmm?" The girl's voice questioned. Amongst the usual cafeteria noise he could hear a chip crunch. "Wouldn't have pegged you as the type."

Leslie always loved chips.

He finally responded, "And what type am I?" Jesse could feel whoever this mystery girl was eyes burning into his head. He could feel her smirk.

_Crunch._

"You seethe angst. Contempt. Mystery. Edgar Allen Poe suits you."

_Crunch._

And then Jesse wondered.

When did this girl see him run?

"Hey." He looked up to see blonde hair bobbing up and down before disappearing into the sea of students.

_Thump. Thump._

**Leslie?**

**Leave comments. (Sorry about the shortness :D)**


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